


Suck It Up, Buttercup

by flecksofgold (cherri_cola)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi is Whipped, Lee Jihoon | Woozi is a little shit, M/M, Pole Dancer Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Pole Dancing, Slow Romance, Stripping, Vampire Bites, Vampire Lee Jihoon, Vampire Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherri_cola/pseuds/flecksofgold
Summary: Blood is hot, thick and heavy.Venom is intoxicating, addicting and dangerous.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> anyways there is a lack of soonhoon and im here to fix that

Soonyoung is someone who’s rather well known throughout Seoul. He hides himself in the underground, yet is untouchable by the police.

 

In a lot of ways, he’s the true ruler over not only Seoul but Korea. He has men planted in every city, every town and controls the import of drugs, weapons and so much more. 

 

Seoul is his playground, he owns everything in sight. Everything within this city is his and no one else’s.

 

There’s something special about having endless outreach in Seoul though, while everyone deals with weapons or drugs in the United States or other countries, Seoul is the only in the world to offer vampire venom.

 

It is quite an addictive substance, one vial enough to make one fall to their knees and drool for more within one day. 

 

He knows that’s why he’s successful, there isn’t anywhere else in the world that has managed to create something so dangerous, yet so enticing. People are always looking for the next dangerous thing, they don’t want marijuana or ecstasy, they want something that can kill them in one night.

 

They want something that can give them the ultimate high, and that’s vampire venom. No one knows why it’s so enticing, nor do they understand what draws people to it. There has been endless research done into it, and that research has shown too many different results but there’s the one thing that everyone is certain of.

 

It is to lure in their prey, unwilling and idiotic humans who are willing to fall for their beauty and charms.

 

Soonyoung himself has never been in contact with a vampire, nor does he want to because he knows the results of their games. He knows how they manipulate people into becoming nothing more than human blood bags, pale and thin with bags under their eyes.

 

He may know the results but that doesn’t stop him from using it. He never would touch it from the source because he knows the dangers better than anyone, he won’t let himself become nothing more than an empty body.

 

He has more purpose than that, he has more pride than that. 

 

That doesn’t stop him from wondering what it would be like to experience it from the source, to feel the venom slowly sinking into his blood. 

 

The rush truly is better than nothing else. The euphoria that it brings is something that is incomparable.

 

It’s utterly unique, everything melts away and you find yourself drawn to the closest thing to you. 

 

He doesn’t like the way it does that but maybe if he were to toy around…

 

He shakes his head, balling his hands into fists. He’s better than that, he’s better than the people that search for a high that will only bring about devastation. 

 

That’s what vampires do, they bring nothing but devastation to human lives. They aren’t to be trusted, they’re creatures of the night and they stalk in the shadows. They are cold, unfeeling creatures who only care about luring someone into their web.

 

There are so many around him who go straight to the source to receive their dosage, daily and nightly. It’s a dangerous game that his heads play, but they know the fame. They know the dangers. 

 

His fingers are tapping on the glass top of his desk, creating an ambient noise. His computer screen has dimmed down and he finds himself staring into space. To say he’s curious would be an understatement, he’s so much more than curious.

 

Just like the people that wander the streets at night, hopeless fools and destroyed addicts, he’s looking for the one thing that would make his high better. He knows the effects of vampire venom are potent, strong enough that he needs to be lying down on his couch or bed whenever he takes his next dosage.

 

It would be more enhanced if there was another there, someone to guide and control him in the way a vampire would. 

 

The rhythm of his fingers against the glass is getting only faster and faster, his mind slowly beginning to lose itself. He has another meeting today, and then he’s free to go wherever he wishes. 

 

He’s always free to go whenever, and wherever he wants, but his gang is much more important than anything right now. They are just beginning to expand internationally and he needs to be careful.

 

They do things very different in the west, especially in Europe and it is rather dangerous to leave them hanging. Soonyoung just stays seated, taking a deep breath as the door to his office swings open to reveal his two most trusted men.

 

Lee Chan looks back at him with a smile on his face, and it looks as if there are blood spatters on his suit. 

 

There are a lot of questions as to how that man is always smiling, it’s unnerving but he’s one of the best that Soonyoung has. Next to him is Xu Minghao, who matches with Chan nearly perfectly, both of them are so positive it’s sickening. 

 

They work well together, which is why he never splits them up. They tend to work together on the drug market, they hold control over distribution and control when and where drops happen. 

 

They haven’t let him down yet, and he knows they won’t.

 

They swore themselves to him the day they agreed to be his executives. He trusts them with his life, and they trust him with theirs.

 

They’re his brothers,  but still his subordinates, and they are yet to disrespect him in any way, shape or form.

 

He’s never fussed when they mock him, though no others would dare. It’s refreshing when they do and sometimes he can’t help but let out a small laugh despite the facade he needs to put up.

 

He isn’t someone particularly cold, but he is someone who believes that people deserve what they work for. He worked to control Seoul, he remembers how his father had always told him he was too soft.

 

He remembers the way he would always be mocked for smiling when told good news. He’d had his coldness beaten into him with abusive words and belt buckles but it made him stronger than ever.

 

His father had left him an empire, an empire that Soonyoung knew he deserved more than anything. No one had contested his rise to power, but he remembers how Minghao and Chan had been the people he’d known he wanted as his executives.   
  
  
It was as if instinct, he'd known them since he was young, and he'd known them since he could walk. They'd always been around him because his father had always insisted that he have someone to carry out his duties.   
  
  
  
He knows that it's bad, and dangerous for him to go out and get his hands dirty but it's how he establishes his power over his men. His father had always taken the easy route, hiring hitmen and assassins to do his work, and he doesn't need that. He needs to show that he can carry out his own operations so his men know that he understands the importance of strategising.   
  
  
  
"You got somewhere you wanna be?"   
  
  
  
Chan rests his arms on his chest, looking right at him with a mischevious grin as he looks Soonyoung up and down. He never had been able to get something past his number two, with Chan being someone known for being incredibly observant.   
  
  
  
"What's it to you, Channie?"   
  
  
  
He only shrugs before looking towards Minghao. The two of them know that he' planning something, they've known him long enough to read his actions. They don't say anything about it though, choosing instead to focus on their own information for him.   
  
  
  
"We just wanted to let you know that we caught a runaway mule, we managed to track down at least fifty kilos of venom right outside the airport thank fuck otherwise we would've lost it for good..."    
  
  
  
Minghao speaks up then, taking over from Chan.   
  
  
  
"We need to have stronger security, there's too much of that stuff that could get out and if it does then word will get out that you aren't doing too good and your business will fall..."   
  
  
  
He leans back, letting out a sigh as he realises that must be why Chan has spatters of blood and Minghao's gloves are in his pocket instead of on his head. The two of them don't particularly like carrying out violence but they'll do it if they have to, or encounter a threat to the very family they'd sworn themselves into on the day they'd met him.   
  
  
  
"Alright, I want drops more secure, we need to be more careful of our suppliers on the edge of the city, we need to be careful in how we collect it as well..."   
  
  
  
The two of them just nod, knowing what he means, he says it anyways. He has to be sure that everyone understands that he can't afford to deal with anything else right now.   
  
  
  
"That means we kill no one, anything else is fair game but no death, we need them alive, okay?"   
  
  
  
Both of them nod, looking at each other.    
  
  
  
Soonyoung swears they speak in a completely different language but he can never be sure, there aren't many that he can trust as much as these two.   
  
  
  
"Alright, we got it."   
  
  
  
The two of them stand up to leave, turning towards the door and just before they walk out he has the right mind to speak up.   
  
  
  
"Also, I don't want any of that shit stolen and being cut on the streets with heroin or some shit, don't let it out."   
  
  
  
Their key to success is their control over the venom market, and if they lose that then Soonyoung loses his all empire.   
  
  
  
Seoul would slip from his fingers and become nothing but a pile of rubble and dust. It'll be left to the wind, and eventually blown away into nothing.    
  
  
  
"We got it Soonyoung."   
  
  
  
The door closes behind them and he' left all alone, alone and with his own thoughts again.    
  
  
  
  
  
He can hear his heart racing in his ears, his mouth is drying and the room around him is beginning to swirl. He has a lust slowly filling the pit of his stomach, a thirst and an almost endless hunger. He makes sure the door is closed before reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk.   
  
  
  
There's a small syringe, the end sharp enough to pierce through thick skin and the vial is rather long. He sets it down on the table, before pulling the small vial that sits at the back of his drawer.   
  
  
  
The liquid within is clear, there's nothing to indicate it's capabilities. It looks as if it could be either water or vodka, or anything that's transparent.   
  
  
  
There's no colour tinging it, it looks as if saliva.    
  
  
  
In a way it is, considering it had been something that had come from the mouth of a vampire.    
  
  
  
It's pure venom, enough to sedate his cravings but nowhere near enough to make him feel what he needs. He knows that he should be content, or abstain from it but it's too tempting when it's right in front of him.    
  
  
  
He tightens the small tourniquet that he had sitting on his desk around his arm, using his teeth. He taps the syringe with his finger before slowly filling it, watching the vial drain.   
  
  
  
He's about to push it into his arm when he finds himself pausing.   
  
  
  
  
  
Why should he have to do it this way?   
  
  
  
He's the richest man in Seoul, and he deserves more than some shitty desk high. He knows what he does is majorly unfair, he knows that taking advantage of individuals who can't help what they become is something truly horrific but there's another side to it.   
  
  
  
In opening this trade for vampires, he's given them a way to truly save themselves from their fate and given them the opportunity to get themselves money while still feeding on humans.    
  
  
  
There's one vampire that's prolific within his executives, everyone knows his name. He doesn't know what to expect but he's only ever heard good things. People have praised him, asking where and how he'd found him, but it hadn't been Soonyoung that had.   
  
  
  
He'd never even met them, he'd only heard of them. Whispers of how potent his venom is, how lovely his skin is and the way he dances.    
  
  
  
He doesn't know his name, but he knows his stage name.   
  
  
  
Woozi, which is oddly cute.   
  
  
  
In a way, that's exactly what vampire venom does. It makes one feel a certain type of drowsiness, relaxing one enough that they become pliant in their sires arms.    
  
  
  
It's something truly unforgettable and Soonyoung finds himself slamming the bottom drawer shit, the vial half empty and the syringe nearly filled to the top.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The lights are dimmed, red enough that Jihoon can make out only the shadows and bodies in the crowd. He can't see the entrance from where he stands, he doesn't care about the entrance though.   
  
  
  
He cares about his clients for tonight, everyone around him is sitting curled up in a business man's lap, their face buried in necks as they feed.   
  
  
  
The scent of blood is enough to make him feel as if he's going insane, it's metallic, hot and heavy. He needs to feed on someone, but there's no one prolific enough. There's no one who could even afford him tonight.   
  
  
  
There's a quiet in the room, it isn't overly loud because not all of them can handle noises. Jeonghan comes down from the stage first, his eyes wide and dilated.   
  
  
  
His regular must be here and it makes Jihoon jealous.   
  
  
  
"Kill em up there, Hoonie."   
  
  
  
"Don't fucking call me that here."   
  
  
  
"mmkay Hoonie."   
  
  
  
He doesn't bother reiterating his last point. He just walks up to the stage, the gold reflecting on his features. There's a pole in the centre, and he can hear his heels clicking against the ground.   
  
  
  
He doesn't particularly like wearing them, but they make him look taller. They also make him feel much more attractive, especially when they're five inches tall.   
  
  
  
He reaches his hands around the pole, the cool metal giving him some type of comfort. He knows that the knife that sits in his thigh holster only garners more looks from people, which causes him to smile as he begins to climb.   
  
  
  
He starts slow, taking a deep breath as he begins to slowly twirl at the very top. His hand and foot keeping him in place as he looks around. He comes to a stop before climbing to the very top where there's a flat top.   
  
  
  
This is always his favourite part, showing off his strength and capability. He wouldn't call himself a show-off, but he'd say he's very proud of himself. He lines up his hand carefully on the top, knowing that as he begins everyone will be watching.   
  
  
  
Everyone's always watching. They all wish they could afford him, they wish they could feel his lips against their neck and his venom pulsing through their veins but only those who can afford his fee can touch him.   
  
  
  
He flattens his palm against the flat top before slowly lifting his body up. He can feel everything wanting to give in, his breathing needs to remain controlled despite the tight lace corset adorning his chest.   
  
  
  
He likes the way it flatters him, making him look as if he's much older. People tend to think he's young, too young to be working in a den but he's twenty-three and can hold his own. He's been here for four years and counting, he's earned his spot.   
  
  
  
He doesn't look out on the crowd, he hopes they can see the soft expanse of his thighs though, the pale flesh of his chest and his stomach peeking out from a gap in the fabric.   
  
  
  
He's worth it.    
  
  
  
He's worth every penny he's earned, and he'll be damned if everyone doesn't know that.   
  
  
  
He slowly makes his way back down, his legs wrapping around the pole first. The metal feels more welcoming now and he begins to move. He drops suddenly, allowing his hands and feet to slip before he gets to halfway.   
  
  
  
He stops then, letting go with his hands and slowly bending over backwards, arching his back.    
  
  
  
It's then that he sees a man staring at him from the side of the room, his eyes are darkened with something. Jihoon swears he sees his face is slightly pale and fingers shaking and he can only grin, winking at them.   
  
  
  
He knows that they're after him, and he knows they have the money.   
  
  
  
He can see the quality of his suit from here, it looks as if it's imported and his eyes are slightly cat-like. His fingers are shaking as he brings them to his lips, Jihoon thinks he's cute.    
  
  
  
He looks as if he's hiding extra food in his cheeks which are slightly chubby. He can't figure out why there are people swarming around him though and it's as he steps down from the pole that he sees himself being beckoned over.   
  
  
  
His fangs are digging into his bottom lip slightly and it stings, but he doesn't let himself think about it. He doesn't allow himself a second thought, he smiles and waves at everyone as he passes them. There are few hands against his ass, that only makes him even more angry.   
  
  
  
He reaches behind him, grabbing a man's hand before turning around and looking right at him in the eyes.    
  
  
  
"Don't touch me if you can't afford me."   
  
  
  
He was told not to antagonise humans but they're so infuriating that he can't just let them continue to be idiots.   
  
  
  
It's when he's standing across from the other man that he realises just who it is.   
  
  
  
He doesn't say anything forever, knowing that he isn't supposed to speak unless spoken to. It also probably isn't safe to act like royalty in front of him.   
  
  
  
"Please, let me pay, I have the money, alright?"   
  
  
  
"No, no we couldn't do that to you, it's on us, okay?"   
  
  
  
"What about you? Do you want me to pay?"   
  
  
  
Jihoon speaks before allowing his thoughts to catch up.   
  
  
  
"I would like to be paid, yes."   
  
  
  
"That's it, I'm paying."   
  
  
  
He can't process that for the first time since the establishment had been built that Kwon Soonyoung is here.   
  
  
  
He's here and he's sitting across from Jihoon, his wallet in his hand and arguing back and forth about paying.    
  
  
  
He feels himself smiling as he realises just how much money he can make from one bite, one dance.   
  
  
  
It's perfect.   
  
  
  
"Woo-"   
  
  
  
Jihoon doesn't even stay to hear the rest of the sentence, instead opting to walk to a back room, making sure that Soonyoung's following him.

 

The room is small, with a small table and a tray that Jihoon assumes was put there to accommodate for Soonyoung. He doesn’t like the special treatment he gets, but he doesn’t think about it because in a way he has a power over him.

 

There aren’t many people who can say that they have a gang head at the tip of their fingers, slowly being reeled in until it’s much too late to pull away. 

 

He has the venom that Soonyoung craves, it runs through his veins. He can smell the lust that’s pouring off of Soonyoung, it comes off of him in waves and Jihoon feels himself slowly losing himself.

 

He can’t let himself go, he can’t give in to his more primal needs but there’s so much that he wishes to do.

 

There’s so much that he feels the need to do. There’s so much that he wishes he could do, he wonders if there’s an extreme side to Soonyoung.

 

There’s usually an extreme part that executives hide, only allowing him to toy with it. 

 

Blood tastes so much richer when it’s pumped with lust.

 

He feels his fangs slowly growing, poking into his bottom lip. He flashes a smile at Soonyoung, sly and careful as he moves  to pour them both a drink.

 

He pours himself a small shot of blood that had been left for him, and he pours Soonyoung a whiskey on the rocks. The ice fizzing slightly when it comes into contact with the liquid, filling the ambient silence.

 

He notices how Soonyoung’s eyes lock on the glint of the rose gold handle that sits in the holster on his thigh. The holster itself is at the top of his boot, the metal of the blade shines through when it makes contact, and the rose gold gives it a delicate touch.

 

“It’s not fun playing with a blade.”

 

Blades are dangerous, they’re fun but they’re not as fun as teasing. They’re not as entertaining as watching people squirm, begging to be bitten, to feel venom pulsing through their bloodstream and intoxicating them until they become a whining mess.

 

He doesn’t mean to sound rude, he doesn’t care if he sounds rude. Soonyoung is pretty, Jihoon realises. His hair is black and messy as it sits on his forehead, he’s dressed in an expensive suit, completely black with a black tie and there’s a glint of Rolex on his wrist.

 

His cheeks are slightly chubby, there’s also a light in his eyes. It looks as if there are stars hidden somewhere in them, even in the darkness of a dimmed room there’s something intriguing about them.

 

It may be an innocence, but he can’t imagine that there’d be an ounce of that left. No one’s innocent these days, everyone has something dark inside them. It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s there and it can’t be helped because the human soul is weak.

 

He would know, having been human once, decades ago he thinks.

 

He’s twenty-three, he just says that so as not to confuse people. He’s actually seventy-three and counting now, fifty years had come and gone in a flash, though he isn’t as old as others who work here.

 

“And why’s that?”

 

Soonyoung’s voice is rough, low and Jihoon moves slowly. He sits himself down in Soonyoung’s lap, he cups his hand around his mouth. 

He leans in to whisper in his ear, he can hear Soonyoung’s heartbeat. It’s steady, staying at the pace but it’s his scent that gives away his excitement.

 

His other hand creeps to rest on the nape of Soonyoung’s neck, his fingers dragging small circles. 

 

His other hand cups his mouth as he whispers, his voice light and breathy. He knows how to woo people, he knows how to make them weak. There’s so much power at his fingertips.

 

“Because you won’t get your hit from me.” 

 

Soonyoung tenses, his heartbeat slowly gaining speed. Jihoon can hear it more than ever, he can feel himself becoming overwhelmed.

 

He pulls away from Soonyoung, seeing that there’s no sparkle left in his eyes. There’s only a darkness, intrigue and want clouding any innocence that had been left behind. He feels heavy, heavy and warm as he stays on Soonyoung’s thigh.

 

“And that’s what you came for, hm?”

 

He can bend any man to his will, he slowly drags his finger nail up Soonyoung’s neck. Soonyoung’s hands have found their way to his hips, holding onto him delicately, as if he’s a china doll that could easily shatter.

 

“You know what I came for.”

 

Soonyoung’s breathing has grown heavy, and Jihoon can feel arousal flowing from him. It’s smell so potent that it nearly suffocates him. 

 

“You’re no better than anyone else there.”

 

He splays his hand across Soonyoung’s chest, pulling him in with his tie. His lips ghost above Soonyoung’s, he’s in control. 

 

There’s nothing better than having one of the most powerful men in Seoul pliant under your fingers, willing to do anything to be given what they need.

 

Venom isn’t a want for these people, but a need.

 

His neck is beautiful, smooth and Soonyoung tilts his head ever so slightly and Jihoon has to suppress a small moan.

 

“You’re so willing already…”

He starts by pressing soft kisses slowly up his neck. He can feel his mouth flooding and his mind reeling, this is always the best part.

 

“If you need me to stop Soonyoung, you tell me.”

 

“Okay…”

 

Soonyoung’s blood is rich, thick and he’s thankful that he hadn’t touched his whiskey because muddied blood tastes awful. It’s hot, heavy and thick but goes down his throat so smoothly and he can’t help but let out a moan.

 

It’s delightful and intoxicating. He can feel blood slowly dripping down his chin, he can hear it hitting the floor. He can feel Soonyoung shaking underneath him, his body nearly giving in and he wishes that he could drink more.

 

He needs more than this but he knows that this is dangerous.

 

He pulls away, feeling full and his head is heavy. He notices how Soonyoung’s eyes have gotten their sparkle back, and it makes him confused. There’s also a droopy smile on his face and something heavy in the air.

 

“W-Woozi…”

 

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

 

He knows that there’s blood covering his chin and mouth, that never phases clients. They always want something after he’s fed. 

 

That’s why they come into back rooms because it can get indecent, and not everyone needs to see what happens. He looks at Soonyoung who just nods at him, his mind in another world.

 

He sits so he’s looking right at Soonyoung before pushing their lips together, kissing him slowly and carefully. Soonyoung moves against him, following him almost exactly as their bodies and lips fall in sync.

 

It all comes together as they meld into one, Soonyoung pliant as Jihoon presses his tongue into his mouth. He feels some type of excitement as he realises that Soonyoung can taste his own blood. 

 

When he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting their mouths, Soonyoung’s looking at him expectantly, wanting more and Jihoon pulls the knife from his holster.

 

“Next time, we can play with this, okay?”

 

“W-Why not now?”

 

“You’re overwhelmed, Soonyoung.”

 

He wishes they could keep going, he just knows that if he causes anything serious there’ll be trouble. 

 

“Stay?”

 

“How about I walk you home?”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Soonyoung, I thought you never wanted to kill someone.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this is earlier than expected

Soonyoung feels foggy when he finally comes to. His head feels as if it’s in the middle of a thunderstorm, calm and wrapped in grey clouds that make it so he isn’t able to see through a visage of what’s around him.

 

Even his body feels as if it’s floating in the clouds, surrounded by softness and he swears he can feel the cool air on his forehead. He feels his body beginning to release, to let go as he slowly comes to. The room is slightly blurry, and he just lies there looking at the ceiling of his penthouse.

 

He can remember little pieces about the den, remember the loud music that had felt like it had been pumping through his veins. The sounds of quiet chatter and whispered promises filling the pauses and making him realise that there’s more than only him that’s been in his home.

 

He groans when he feels his muscles ache, stretching his arms out as if a cat. He feels everything starting to move at once, his mind and body shifting into gear. The clouds move, they reveal the lavish room he sits in and there’s nothing out of place. His clothes are folded on the arm of one of his lounge chairs, his shoes are next to the door.

 

He reaches his hand up to his neck, he doesn’t feel anything aside from two small indents where his jugular is. They shouldn’t be visible, and surprisingly there’s no scab either. He’d only ever read about fast healing and never actually been on the receiving end of it. It’s always been something that perplexed him but he’s thankful for it as he tries to sit up.

 

His limbs groan in disapproval, not wanting to move an inch from where they lay tangled in his covers.

 

While the clouds may have cleared there’s one thing that’s clear.

 

He doesn’t remember anything from the moment he felt Woozi’s teeth sink into his neck, the venom had corrupted him and taken over completely. There had been a rush, a rush he’d never felt before and it had only made him want more.

 

It had blossomed into a lust he’d never felt, something that had manifested and left a small thirst in the back of his throat. It doesn’t make sense but he can’t bring himself to fight against it. He rests his head in his hands, trying to steady his vision as he tries to breathe.

 

There had been a lethality in the way Woozi had moved, he remembers it. He remembers the way he had felt intrigued as he’d watched him dance, completely in awe.

 

Soonyoung hadn’t been shocked at all to find out that the vampire lived up to his reputation. He had been shocked at how small he seems though, he hasn’t seen him without his boots but they’d added a considerable amount of height. There’s also the fact that even whilst wearing them he’d been at Soonyoung’s height.

 

He stands up, feeling his head start to swim and he has to lift a hand to steady himself before he makes his way to his bathroom.

 

It’s rather sizeable, with pure white marble floors and the vanity’s made out of dark wood, mahogany. He looks in the mirror and almost lets out a horrified scream when he sees himself.

 

His eyes are slightly bloodshot and the bite marks on his neck are much more prominent than he’d thought they’d be. His face looks rather ashen, but somehow he still finds himself feeling at the top of the world.

 

His appearance says the opposite, and he wants to ignore it. He’s also pleasantly surprised to see nearly no remnants of blood on his body, he’d imagined it would have trailed all down on his neck, and dribbled onto his chest and stomach.

 

Nothing indicates that, and his clothes, even if he had barely had a look at them seemed almost spotless.

 

The shower is open floored and made of the same marble as the rest of the bathroom, its cool on his feet and he reaches to turn the tap on. He doesn’t know how he’d ended up in only his briefs but he doesn’t think about it much.

 

The water is warm against his cool, almost too warm but he likes the way the steam clouds the glass and the way it makes everything seem more humid. He likes it because it’s somewhat refreshing, in an odd way that shouldn’t work because refreshing things are usually classified as a cool drink on a summer’s day or a nice breeze.

 

As water hits against the floor, filling the empty silence he finds his eyes fixated on the wall just across from him. He can’t figure out, or remember what had happened, he doesn’t remember how he’d gotten home.

 

There are countless indicators that there had been someone else in his home, the folded clothes, the way his shoes were placed at his bedroom door. There was also the fact that his clothes had ended up on the arm of his lounge chair.

 

Hysteria, it has to be some type of hysteria that he’d experienced because he never forgets. Everything he’s done under any influence is remembered but what makes it different this time?

 

What made him blackout like that? And why can he remember how he felt during it. Why does he remember how every touch felt like fire on his skin, why does he remember a craving felt for the touch of another.

 

None of this makes sense. He shouldn’t have gone out but now, now he doesn’t think that he can stop.

 

It makes him worry, because if he can’t stop then what does that mean. He shakes his head, trying to physically rid himself of his thoughts because he doesn’t need to be introspective right now.

 

There are more important things that deserve his attention than one night that had gone the opposite way to what he’d expected, or wanted.

 

Oddly enough, he doesn’t find himself regretting it though.

 

There's no reason he would have to regret it because what happened had led to something new and exciting in his life. For once it wasn't him in control, looking over everyone around him but instead it was someone he'd never met before and that was exhilarating.

 

There was an adrenaline rush that came with allowing someone to take control, and for the first time in his life, he'd gotten to experience that. It wasn't from the hand of his father, it was someone who knows of his power.

 

Woozi knew that he's someone prolific, he probably knows that he calls the shots. He seems smart, intelligent and that can be dangerous but that's not something bad.

 

It isn't something that's bad either, it's new.

 

He feels a grin begin to make its way onto his face, he wonders if he's still slightly doped up but he doesn't particularly care if he is or not.

  
  


He's standing in front of his mirror, his top button undone and shirt tucked in. His eyes won't leave the small, nearly invisible indents in his neck. They've faded over time, to the point that he can barely see his own.

 

He doesn't mind having them there, the skin is slightly rough against the pads of his fingers. He can feel his heartbeat, thrumming steadily beneath the skin. He takes a deep breath, thinking about how there's vampire venom running through his veins right now, stronger and more potent than ever.

 

There's leftover venom, he can feel it, it's out of place and it makes his head feel funny as he quickly does up his top button. It would be rather dangerous for him to leave the mark visible for someone to see.

 

Addicts are people who are seen as vulnerable, and if people saw a mark like that adorning his skin he would be in a lot more trouble than he needs. There are already people struggling to accept that he runs everything differently to his father.

 

He doesn't like killing people for no reason, he doesn't like leaving their families to bury mauled and broken bodies. His father had liked that, but not him. He's different, he prefers to leave them with at least a chance, even if it's a small chance.

 

Minghao and Chan, however, disagree with him greatly. They're always urging him to make an example out of someone or do something extreme that he knows wouldn't fly. The actions they talk to him about never fail to make him feel nauseous.

 

He isn't someone fit to be in this position but his father had never let him have another opportunity.

 

That's why he'd found comfort in something non-human, the venom that has flowed through his veins and makes him feel on top of the world. He feels as if he can do anything when he has a hit, but that's when it doesn't come from the source.

 

He walks outside of his home and is greeted by one of his most trusted friends Wen Junhui.

 

He remembers when Minghao had come home as a young boy, trailing a small child behind him. Their hands had been clasped together in an iron grip and he'd begged Soonyoung to help, begged him on his knees with tears flowing from his eyes.

 

He was young then, young enough that he didn't have the power of his father. His heart had swelled though, and he'd taken the young boy in, much to his father's disdain. He had received a lecture and had been shouted at but there had been no threat of violence.

 

He had been safe because his father would never hurt his beloved heir, but he would hurt him. He would emotionally manipulate and abuse him until there were only wilting petals falling from his palms.

 

Soonyoung, in the end, hadn't become a crushed flower in the palms of his father's hand. He wouldn't allow himself to be captured in his enclosed fist and made to do whatever he wished just because he did everything differently.

 

He'd risen above his father in the end, he hadn't become a wilting flower but had blossomed into something stronger than one could imagine. He has an airtight loyalty with his executives, all of them having been inducted into his family from day number one.

 

"Jun, how're you?"

 

Soonyoung smiles as they walk down the path to the car, the man gripping onto his briefcase as if it holds the key to immortality.

 

It probably does, technically, considering vampires are immortal and too much of their venom could easily turn someone.

 

"Yeah, it's been rough but I'm okay, Hao's been trying to get me to spend more time at home, cause I'm always working at the office or hanging around you, you ain't exactly safe you know that?"

 

He grins, lifting his arm to hit against Jun's shoulder because he knows that there isn't exactly an air of safety that surrounds him. There's a big number that floats above his head, a number that people wish they could make in a lifetime.

 

"I know I'm not safe Jun, no one exactly hangs out with me anymore."

 

Jun let out a small laugh at this, turning to look at him with mirth in his eyes. He stops walking just before he pulls the car door to the driver's seat open.

 

"You dumbass, we hang out with you, don't we?"

 

"I guess you're right then."

 

"I'm always right."

 

He just lets out a snort at that, Jun is most definitely not always right but he's someone who's very observant when need be. He can always tell when there's something about to awry and he's saved Soonyoung more than he can count on his fingers.

 

He isn't always right, but he's an asset.

 

He's an asset that Soonyoung wouldn't trade for the world because he truly has done almost too much for Soonyoung in the years he's known him.

 

"Jun?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Do you feel indebted to me?"

 

"No, but it's just, you're my only family left."

 

Soonyoung lets out a low hum at this.

 

It's the same for all of them, they only have each other left. They only have this small tight-knit group of people who met in the weirdest way possible, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

 

He couldn't give it away, he wouldn't.

 

He would die for them, even if there's the unspoken rule that they should be the ones to die for him. He doesn't need a son, he knows that any of them could easily run everything in his place.

  
  
  


The rest of the day is quiet, his head is still foggy when there's something brought to his attention by Junhui. The executive looks at him with a grim look on his face and there's a man coming in behind him, thrown onto his knees.

 

Soonyoung leans his head in his heads and quirks his eyebrow at Junhui, looking down at the man on his knees.

 

"Who's this?"

 

Chan and Minghao come in then, their expressions filled with nothing but giddiness despite the fact that they know that he doesn't approve of violent action in his office. The two of them though like to show off their skills, especially when it comes to violent acts.

 

They are bodyguards, and hitmen, after all so it makes sense.

 

"This is Min Eunhwa, he was caught on the border at Seoul airport, we've been tracking him for quite some time, Prince Kwon."

 

The one perk of the job is that people call him prince, he doesn't know why he likes it but there's just something about the name that makes him feel elated.

 

"Mm, is he the one that stole from our supplier, and kept raiding our drops?"

 

"P-Prince Kwon, please I can ex-"

 

"Did you steal from me?"

 

Soonyoung stands up from his desk, his head floating and he feels as if he isn't himself. He's careful as he squats down to Eunhwa's height, looking at them square in the face. He lifts his hand to slowly scratch up his neck, his hand resting on the man's jugular.

 

He can feel his heartbeat, he almost feels like he can hear it but that would be too much.

 

The smile that stretches across his face is sly, his mind is calculating as he tries to think of what he's going to do.

 

"You didn't answer my question, Eunhwa."

 

He slides his finger across the mans' neck as if cutting it open. He envisions the blood that would spill, and he doesn't feel disgusted or nauseous but instead finds that it may be a beautiful sight to behold.

 

"I-I-"

 

"Cmon, just answer him already!"

 

Chan speaks up from where he stands in the corner of the room, his hand is resting on his gun that sits on his waist. It's a simple silver model, but along the barrel sits his family crest.

 

A blooming rose, it's vines wrap around the barrel, beautifully coiling around it, each of his executives carry a gun of the exact same calibre. They're made by the same dealer and come from the same place.

 

They're imported from Italy, and Soonyoung knows just how expensive they are.

 

They're also lethal, as any gun are, there is no hope of survival in close contact.

 

"P-Prince Kwon, please I didn't mean to steal, I just, it was there and I knew all the coordinates and it was so ea-"

 

Soonyoung begins to press down on the man's throat then, his thumb slowly digging into the skin as he looks at the man. He looks Eunhwa right in the eyes, still smiling coolly.

 

He doesn't waver, he doesn't allow his heart to falter because when someone is unloyal that needs to be punished.

 

"You broke my trust?"

 

He wraps his other hand around Eunhwa's throat, feeling his voice and muscles strain as he keeps looking at the man. He watches as he scrabbles in his grip, his lips growing blue as he tries to make him stop.

 

He won't stop, he won't because he needs to prove that he can be lethal.

 

He isn't easily controlled, he needs to show that he holds power, and this is the only way to do it.

 

The adrenaline that makes its way through his bloodstream mixes with the leftover venom as he pushes his thumbs further into the rough skin of Eunhwa's throat. He nearly lets out an involuntary moan at the pleasure of it, something coming over him that he's never felt before.

 

Even if this isn't who he is, none of his executives step up to try and stop him. They all simply watch as he kills a man with his bare hands, cutting off his life. It isn't as if there isn't a second thought, but Soonyoung just feels more powerful than ever.

 

He feels so powerful in this very moment that it almost doesn't make sense. Eunhwa stops thrashing, his eyes roll into the back of his head and his eyelids flutter and then finally, his chest stops heaving.

 

"Soonyoung?"

 

Minghao looks at him, there's something in his eyes that he's never seen before. He's seen concern, worry and even upset but never this. Soonyoung can't put his finger on it but he wonders just what had compelled him to do that.

 

"Holy shit, go Soonyoung!"

 

Chan reaches his fist into the air, his voice light and airy as pride overtakes him. None of them had ever expected him to do such a thing, not even while his father was alive had Soonyoung killed.

 

He had never wanted to give his father the satisfaction of knowing that he had followed in his footsteps. His shoulders slump as he looks at the body in front of him, he hadn't realised that Eunhwa's legs had given out at some point.

 

He isn't even phased when he looks at his face, and he feels a sense of confusion take over him because he feels nothing but upset. He feels upset that this man had betrayed him but that's not what upsets him completely.

 

He feels his stomach begin to do flips, it feels as if he's swallowed stones and they're tearing through his body. He stands up viciously, backing away from the body until he feels his back hit his desk.

 

He looks at the three men standing around him, all of them looking at him with different expressions and he doesn't know what to make out of it.

 

How can he know?

 

He just killed a man because he was after some high, and the adrenaline hadn't even been enough. He'd craved something more and his hand, for some reason, instinctually reaches up to his neck and he feels calm.

 

He feels calmer at the thought that this isn't all his fault, his body is reacting to something new. It's getting used to it, but that's not it.

 

Deep down, he knows that's not it.

 

"Soonyoung, I thought you never wanted to kill someone.."

 

Jun speaks up, looking at him with glassy eyes and he doesn't know what to make of it.

 

He remembers the day he'd sworn to never kill, the day he'd sworn that he wouldn't be like his father.

 

He just begins to feel his body slump, his mind going completely blank because that's who he is right now.

 

He's his father, merciless, cold and relentless.

 

"I didn't..."

 

Everyone goes quiet at that, surprisingly it's Chan who moves first.

 

He stands so he's next to Soonyoung, and he smiles softly at him. He reaches his arm around Soonyoung's shoulder, his fingers moving softly against the fabric of his shirt. Chan has always been good at calming people, even though he's so easy to distract.

 

He always focusses on the most important aspect of things, even if his mind moves from problem to problem rather quickly. He's able to pinpoint the bigger things, and when he works with Junhui there's nothing that can stop the two of them.

 

There's something that Chan can connect to in each person that he spends time with, and for that Soonyoung is thankful. He's thankful because he doesn't know where he'd be if he didn't have someone like Chan in his life.

 

"It's okay, Soonie, it had to happen eventually..."

 

He just nods, trying not to look at the body because he isn't ready to see it. He isn't ready to see Eunhwa, and he should've stayed home. He should have worked from home, but then he wouldn't have even done anything productive and moped around in bed.

 

"I know..."

 

Chan's smile is warm, welcoming and sweet. It makes Soonyoung always feel at peace, and he knows that it's that very aspect of his personality that makes Chan dangerous. It makes him feel like you can open up to him without a second thought.

 

"I'm proud of you, but also, what's going on in your head hm?"

 

He doesn't know what's going on in his head, he doesn't know why this is all happening.

 

Blood, blood and venom those are his specialties, that's how he'd made his fortune. His father had hated him for wanting to expand into the venom and blood markets because apparently there had been no market for it.

 

There had been a market, a market that had immediately been theirs. Their family had quickly become the richest in Seoul after that and his father had only hated him more for that.

 

Shame is what he feels at the realisation that he has to own up to someone about where he'd been last night. His jaw locks as he looks down at the ground, trying to control his reaction as he debates on whether he should share or not.

 

"Chan..."

 

He doesn't want to share, but he needs to tell someone. His family deserve to know, and Chan is his family. He, along with everyone else in this room are his family but he can't admit that he went to a den last night.

 

It's admitting defeat in more ways than one, and he just can't let his weakness be on show. That would be as if exposing the naked skin of his neck to a stray vampire.

 

"Hm?"

 

"I don't know what's going on.."

 

Chan isn't listening though, instead, his eyes are fixated on his neck. Soonyoung immediately slams his hand on top of the bite marks, trying to hide them but it's too late.

 

"I think you do, Soonyoung, and I have one piece of advice for you,"

 

Soonyoung notices that Chan's mouth has moved from a smile into a hard line, and his eyes are conveying what looks like worry.

 

"Be careful."   
  


  
  
  


Jihoon doesn't really know what to make of the prince after last night. He'd so clearly never even ventured into one of the dens, despite being the person who'd pushed the idea far enough that his father had to implement it.

 

For someone in his profession he lives rather lavishly, his apartment is located on the top floor of one of the many apartment buildings in Seoul. It has skylights so he can see the moon and stars every night, his room, however, is truly the most beautiful part of the apartment.

 

The walls are painted a black that's so dark that it makes it feel as if it's always night.The door is painted a rich burgundy red that's matte so it doesn't reflect anything and there's a simple bed in the corner. There's a mirror next to his door and a small closet with drawers that hold his folded clothes.

 

There's a kitchen counter rather close to the entrance of the penthouse, which overlooks the lounge area. He twirls his drink with his finger, he's running low on blood but it isn't something he's fussed over as he doesn't doubt that Soonyoung will come back for another round.

 

He doesn't think he'll take his offer though, considering on how much venom he'd had pumped into him yesterday.

 

His blood had been rich, rich with something that Jihoon can't place and it makes his stomach feel all warm in the best way possible. He'll get to taste that again one day and he really can't wait, and if Soonyoung shows up tonight...

 

He's not sure if he'll be able to say no or not just because there is something so precious about that man. His innocence is still intact, and there's so much that he wants to learn.

 

There's so much that Jihoon wants to take.

 

Would Soonyoung let Jihoon take him as his own one day?

 

That's a silly thought to entertain, and he tries to rid his mind of it because it's almost impossible. There's no way that he would give up his humanity to become one of the most damned creatures to walk the earth.

 

It’s a nice thought to entertain, having one of the most powerful men in Seoul under his grasp and willing to do anything for him. 

 

Exhilaration is what he feels at the thought, it courses through his body and he feels it buzzing. It leaves him feeling warm in the best way possible, and he doesn’t remember what it’s like to feel warm.

 

It’s hard for him to keep warm, he’s always cold but he can never feel it. He’s just told he’s always cold, and people say that it isn’t welcoming. If he’s not warm, and if they were that fussed they would stop paying for him, it’s simple.

 

No one just stops paying though, they never do. He’s lucky in a lot of ways, he’s lucky that he’s been able to work hard enough to earn a reputation. He’s lucky enough that he’s been in this position long enough to know when his life is at threat.

 

There aren’t many people who know about the vampire dens that litter the city, they’re hidden under the guise of nightclubs and word is simply passed around by prolific businessmen and rich housewives.

 

The fabric is something that he always finds himself paying attention to at the beginning of his day, he doesn’t like to dress to outrageously when he isn’t at work. It makes him stand out, though he’s nearly always working considering there’s always someone wanting him for a night.

 

His fingers rest on a soft sweater that he’d stolen from an old friend a few years ago, it still faintly smells of him and it has a hint of melancholy to it. He doesn’t let his mind focus on it, trying to bury it because he can’t remember what happened. 

 

Guilt floods him, consuming him. It swallows him and he feels his body begin to fold in on itself as he looks at the sweater, there are small holes in it and it’s a dark black with red stripes. His heart would stop beating if he had one, and he can imagine his palms would be sweating.

 

He realises as fingers clutch the fabric that this is dangerous. It’s always dangerous but right now, there’s something that he can’t explain that doesn’t make sense. He finds himself staring at the thing, unable to rip his eyes away as voices from faded memories begin to talk in his mind.

 

Overwhelmed, he reaches his hands up to his head, pulling the sweater out of his closet and holding it to his chest. It’s as if a safety blanket, something reminiscent of when he hadn’t had to live scrounging for blood, and scraps of what people are willing to give him.

 

His scalp stings as his other hand pulls at his hair, sobs beginning to bubble up in his chest as everything that had been pent up erupts. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury of emotion, because there always has to be a facade. 

 

Weakness is a vice, emotion is a weakness and therefore it will only bring him trouble. It will bring pain and hurt. His facade is his shield, and that’s okay with him because he manages to fool himself every day. The only remaining thing is the sweater clutched in his hands, the sweater that reminds him of one thing.

 

Happiness, warmth and hope. Even after he’d been walking the earth for decades, he’d managed to find his happiness. Though, it had imploded in on itself, self-destructing into something that he wasn’t ready to handle.

 

He finds himself coming to a stop, trying to push it all back into a tiny box. It can barely fit, it can barely fit in the small compartment he’d created for it but that’s all he needs. His breathing is heavy, laboured as he clutches the sweater close one last time.

The scent only bringing him a small moment of relief before he leaves it to hang in his cupboard once more, for however long until he allows his defences to fall again.

 

Over the years, he’s learnt a lot about self-preservation, and this is one of those things. He only allows his walls to fall in when he knows he’s alone and secure, he knows he’s secure in his home.

 

He doesn’t think as he opens his lingerie drawer, reaching in to pull out a pair of red fishnets and glass red heels. Red is a colour that always makes him feel as if he’s more secure, safe and in control.

 

Not only that but he knows that it’ll only make more people fawn over him, wanting to touch and wanting to get their hit from him. 

 

It’s better for him to distract himself like this, it’s better for him to pretend. If he pretends then he eventually falls for it too, and that’s what he wants. There’s an incessant need to forget, to make the memories fade, the voices and smells become buried away, locked up and never found again.

 

Tonight will make him forget, feeding always does because not only do his clients get their hit, but he gets to play with mortals, bend them to his will. 

 

And what isn’t tempting about that?

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh mama happened and this has been in my head for like three days anyways
> 
>  this is unfortunately discontinued sorry to let you all down
> 
> please feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieyms)  
> and please if you have questions send something in to my[curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/petalmins)  
> 


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